


monochrome.

by zoombles



Series: evan hansen's soulmate. [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: M/M, Soulmates AU, trans connor murphy, tw for connors s.icide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 07:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14869739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoombles/pseuds/zoombles
Summary: People always said that your life flashes before your eyes when you die. It was never mentioned that sometimes, your life seemed to only be made up of the person you loved.





	monochrome.

**Author's Note:**

> a happier sequel to colors.

Evan Hansen. Evan Hansen. Evan Hansen.

People always said that your life flashes before your eyes when you die. It was never mentioned that sometimes, your life seemed to only be made up of the person you loved.

Was that not a normal thing? Were you supposed to see more than just the person you loved? Were you supposed to see more than that?

How was Connor supposed to know? He just knew that he was dying. He was dying, and his phone was too far away, why’d he decide to do something this stupid, why, why, why.

Of course, his mind found all the reasons to not do this seconds too late. Seconds, seconds, seconds, he’d been seconds too late for everything. 

If he’d been seconds earlier to the computer lab he never would’ve found Evan’s letter.

If he’d been seconds earlier to go grab his crayons out of his bag to show the other kids, he never would’ve even found out that Evan was his soulmate. Or, at least, he would’ve found out later. Not before he’d even talked to him.

If he’d been seconds earlier when he first chopped his hair off with safety scissors, he wouldn’t have been caught. He would’ve been able to run away and go to his cousin’s and he’d be safe.

He wouldn’t have come back to school a year later, too scared to approach Evan, with a new name and a new haircut and wearing the contacts he’d only keep until seventh to hide his heterochromia.

He would’ve been okay. Everything would’ve been okay.

But here he was. Here he was, he was dying, he was dying and Evan’s face was stuck in his head, the look on his face when Connor stormed off with the letter.

Zoe Murphy. His next choice was Connor’s sister? 

Was that his next choice? How many others had he fallen for since third grade? There couldn’t have been any other soulmates, Connor was still his soulmate.

Was he?

The second he’d done it, well, maybe a few seconds after, 9:47 PM, it was 9:47 PM, he had done it at 9:47 PM. The second he’d done it he lost the colors. The colors were gone. It was monochrome. Everything was monochrome. The sketchbook he’d left on his bed went from scribbles of red and black to just grey and black. Everything was monochrome. He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.

He didn’t want to go back to black and white. Even as a kid, it had hurt him. It hurt. It hurt like hell to not be able to see all these colors that grown-ups talked about.

This was worse. He knew the colors. He knew the colors. He wanted to see them. He couldn’t lose them.

He didn’t know what Zoe came into his room for. He barely remembered it. He just knew that she walked into his room, she said something, that she needed something, and that she saw him and called for mom. That’s all he knew.

He didn’t remember emergency services coming. He didn’t remember being brought to the hospital. He didn’t remember it. He didn’t remember any of it. 

He just knows that he woke up at the hospital. He woke up at the hospital and no one he knew was there.

His head felt foggy. A heart monitor beeped besides him, and he had an IV drip, and bandages were wrapped around his arms and legs. 

He had a vague recollection of what had happened. He shoved it to the back of his mind.

Why was he here? He didn’t want to be here. He hated hospitals. He hated them.

He hated school. He hated hospitals. He hated museums. He hated restaurants. He hated being at home.

Where did he like? 

Where did he want to be?

His subconscious answered for him, since he drifted off again before he could figure it out consciously.

It was a really foggy dream. He just remembered arms wrapped around him, and those eyes, Evan’s eyes, and just burrowing his face in his chest, and then he woke up.

Someone was there, that time. Someone was there, instead of no one. 

He didn’t know them. A nurse? He wasn’t sure. His head hurt. The light was on, it was too bright. His arms hurt. His legs hurt. Everything hurt.

He groaned, alerting the person in the room to the fact that he was awake.

He had his eyes just barely open enough to watch a wave of concern wipe over the person’s face. They had blond hair, wavy blond hair, probably a nurse based on their blue scrubs, they looked familiar but Connor was sure he’d never seen them before.

“You’re Jay?”

Oh. Yeah. Connor had seen them before. He vaguely recalled hearing that voice when Evan was picked up from school from time to time. That was Heidi. That was Evan’s mom.

Wait. Shit. That was Evan’s mom.

“Evan said… Evan told me the colors were gone. He said you were dead. He thought you were dead.”

Connor wanted to apologize. He hated that he worried Evan. He had worried his soulmate that he hadn’t talked to in years. He didn’t know what to do.

“It’s been two weeks,” Heidi said. “You’ve been here two weeks. Your family, they all thought you were dead. Your mom insisted to wait. Wait and see if you woke up. She insisted you were strong, strong enough to make it through. ‘He’s fought this war for years, Larry. He’s not going to give up now.’ That’s what she’d said.”

His mom. His mom had said that. About him. Despite all the years. All the years of him yelling and screaming at her, yelling when she got his doctor to prescribe medication to help him because that meant he was a freak to her too, didn’t it? Screaming at her when he was in the midst of a panic attack and had his hood drawn over his head to hide his face, screaming at her, at her, over everything. Why was he always screaming at her? Why couldn’t he just control his own emotions?

Why was she still willing to be there for him? To believe in him?

He hadn’t realized he was crying until he tasted the salt of tears on his lips. 

“Hey, hey, honey, it’s okay. It’s okay. We’re gonna make sure you’ll be okay, and then you can go home. You can go home, and I can get you back in contact with Evan, if that’s what you’d like.”

Connor looked up at her through his tears. 

He gave a weak nod. He wanted to talk to Evan again. To apologize for not talking to him for so long. For making him think he was dead. 

Most importantly, he just wanted to be held. He wanted Evan to hold him and he wanted to kiss his stupid cute face and he just wanted to be held.

They had met in kindergarten. They had stopped talking in third grade. They’d talked last a few weeks ago.

He was going to talk to him again. He was going to kiss that stupid pretty face and watch movies with him. He didn’t care if their soulmates had changed, or whatever. He was going to talk to Evan Hansen.

Evan Hansen. Evan Hansen. Evan Hansen.

Connor Murphy’s soulmate, Evan Hansen.

**Author's Note:**

> 4 pages. 1238 words. 6465 characters.


End file.
